


Moonsong

by Kestrealbird



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cultural Differences in Marriage, Domestic Bliss, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Hair Braiding, Hair Washing, Little Boyfriend wears Bigger Boyfriends Jumper, M/M, Multiple AU's in one, Sensual touches, The Fluffiest Mushiest thing I've ever written, Very lowkey ABO stuff in the background, good lord they kiss a lot, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:44:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird
Summary: Reaching over to grab a skewer, he cheekily waves it in front of Nyx’s face, jerking it away to take a bite when Nyx reaches out to take it with his teeth, and laughs at the betrayed look he gets in return. Nyx huff's, puffing out his cheeks to look annoyed, yet the love in his gaze burns brighter than the flames in his hands.





	Moonsong

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was supposed to be a self-indulgent PWP with Beta Nyx and Omega Prompto but alas they decided to be annoyingly cute and domestic instead. The ABO is still kinda there but mostly in the background and easy to ignore. I called this thing 'Cherry Dipped Lips' at first but changed it to Moonsong at the end because [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifQ3JRS4gqc) captures the mood I was feeling at the time

The house is quiet when he walks in, feet dragging on the floor as he discards his jacket in the hallway somewhere. The braids in his hair are a mess of tangles and dirt, there’s dried blood on his boots and dust smeared across his face. Glaive work isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but it helps pay the bills and keeps food in the fridge, so he supposes it’s worth the scrapes and bruises. The jury’s still out on his exhaustion though. 

Libertus and Sonitus have it worse though. They have at least five broken bones between them, and a couple burns besides. They’d only been told about the Behemoth. None of them, not even Cor and Drautos, had been prepared for the Cerberus that came barreling out of the caverns. Nobody had  _ died _ , thankfully. Well, nobody they  _ knew _ anyway, and Drautos had suffered a concussion from where the Cerberus had threw him into a wall, so the day was more a success than a failure just for that. 

Even if the damn thing had gotten away in the end. They should’ve gone after it, probably, but they were all tired and bruised - a little worse for wear - so Cor had told them all to shove off back home and rest while he found out more about this thing. 

Drautos probably would’ve argued had he not passed out into Pelna’s arms like a dramatic maiden. Nyx was fine with this turn of events, really, because the quicker he got home the quicker he could shower and mope about his boyfriend still not being there.

Prompto wasn't really the sort to stay in one place for too long. As free a spirit as Nyx had ever seen, and he couldn't deny that Prompto’s photography was stunning to look at and gush over. Vyv was a nice enough employer, from what he’d heard, and focused most of Prompto’s talents towards the natural beauty of nature and civilizations. Dino, on the other hand, preferred the gossip and rumour mills. 

A sigh slips past his chapped lips as he takes in the silence. Prompto will be gone for another week at least, and Nyx forgets how much he misses the sound of laughter as stray dogs and cats walk into their home because the rascals know that Prompto will feed them whatever he can find in the fridge.

“If you sigh any louder you may as well be outwardly complaining.”

Nyx looks up with a mix of surprise and glee at the sound of Prompto’s amused tone and wastes no time darting forward to pull him into a firm embrace, rocking side to side as he grins into Prompto’s hair.

“I thought you were still in Altissia,” he says, breathless with more glee than tiredness.

Prompto takes in Nyx’s ragged appearance and reaches up to carefully undo his braids. “Dino got into trouble with the locals again, so while Vyv deals with the fallout I decided to come home for a few weeks.” He raises a brow at the bruise beginning to bloom on Nyx’s cheek and clicks his tongue. “Bad mission?” 

Nyx hums. “Something like that, yeah.”

They’ve known each other long enough that Prompto can pick up the silent plea of ‘please stay I’m so tired’ just from the way Nyx is holding him. 

Vyv hadn’t wanted him to leave, but he’d needed to get home and recharge from all the social interaction before he crashed completely, and it’s obvious that Nyx needs time to relax as well.

He reaches up and presses a quick kiss to Nyx’s lips, grinning when Nyx glares at him for moving away too soon. “Bath first,” Prompto tells him. “I’m not kissing you while you’re covered in dirt and dust.”

“You have no problem with the blood, I see.” Nyx, because he’s a jerk, waggles his eyebrows, laughing when Prompto huff's and pushes him away with an exasperated, “just get cleaned up already.”

Nyx gives an exaggerated performance of heartbreak at being shoved away from his dearest love, but acquiesces all the same, because the prospect of a warm bath is more appealing right now then getting more kisses. Scandalous, he knows, but it’s true. Prompto rolls his eyes in fondness despite himself, and sets about getting into looser clothing because travel clothes are  _ far _ too hot for the humid temperatures of Insomnia.

It’s easy enough to nab one of Nyx’s jumpers from the wardrobe, and he decides it’s long enough not to need any pants underneath. Not that Nyx would care either way. He takes off his clothes and dumps them in the washer before he settles on their bed and brings Nyx’s jumper - a rich green with the red symbol of Galahd on the front - up to his nose and inhales the scent that lingers. 

His eyes flutter, mouth tilting into a smile as Nyx’s scent drowns out the last bits of anxiety in his frame. He slips it on and drags his moogle slippers onto his feet, padding back into the kitchen so he can make something decent because lord knows what Nyx has been eating the last few days. 

He’s tempted to complain to Noctis about it, but his friend might actually use that complaint as a reason to ban beans forever, and he doesn't really fancy having to explain that conversation to King Regis. 

It doesn't take Nyx long to run himself a warm bath - with bubbles of course. He may be tired but he’s not a  _ heathen _ , unlike Crowe and Libertus. Traitors, the lot of them. His clothes are left in a pile on the floor with little care about the hazard of tripping over them, and as he sinks into the water, Nyx closes his eyes, a pleased sound in his throat.

He can hear Prompto moving about, humming a rhythm as he moves about the house. The sound is jerky; upbeat and energetic, the exact opposite of a lullaby, yet it soothes Nyx into a lull all the same, making him sink further into the water with a soft sigh and a smile. He’ll have a shower tomorrow when he actually has the energy to stand underneath it without risk of falling asleep and hitting his head off the wall. 

Prompto would never forgive him for that. The expenses would be a pain to deal with he’s sure.

A huff from the doorway has him lazily opening his eyes, a half-formed smirk on his face as he takes in Prompto’s choice of clothing. If he had more energy he might be tempted to see if there was anything underneath his jumper, but right now it’s all he can do to simply admire the freckles on Prompto’s legs and the way his jumper hangs loose on Prompto’s slighter frame.

The first time he’d ever seen Prompto wearing his clothes like that, his brain had all but short-circuited, and he distinctly remembers leaving the room to scream into his pillow because he still hadn’t gotten used to the whole ‘I have a kickass, gorgeous boyfriend’ thing. He still isn’t used to that in the long run but he’s getting there. Waking up and having Prompto’s scent all over his -  _ their _ \- house is still a novelty that he doubts will fade anytime soon.

Prompto doesn't say a word as he walks forward and sits on a stool by the tub, fingers carding through Nyx’s hair in a way that makes his boyfriend moan and tilt his head back, exposing his throat in a display that’s far too submissive for him normally. He isn’t fussed by it though, and takes it as his cue to start lathering shampoo into Nyx’s hair, being careful with the tangles even while he grimaces at the dirt that runs into the water. 

“You’re going to need a rinse off after this,” he says.

Nyx whines through his teeth. That’s so much effort and he would really rather not, but judging by the stern look that Prompto is giving him, putting it off until later simply isn’t an option. “Ugh, fine, whatever.” The kiss he gets on his cheek in return is almost worth the effort. Almost. 

Washing Nyx’s hair is always a task; not because it’s thick and has a habit of getting knotted and tangled even when put up in the tightest braids, but because Prompto gets easily distracted by how easy it is for him to bury his hands in it and move Nyx’s head into whatever position he wants it to be in. He gets distracted by how easily Nyx relaxes and submits under Prompto’s hands - it’s really no wonder that people whisper about them, sometimes, given how much trust Nyx is apparently willing to give him.

Rinsing out the shampoo, he reaches over Nyx to get the conditioner - seriously why does he place it there? - and Nyx catches his mouth in a kiss that makes him shiver, tongue dipping past his teeth for the briefest taste before Nyx leans back, licking his lips with a self-satisfied smile. So that’s why he keeps the conditioner there. Maybe he should move it.

“Mm,” Nyx hums, “you had cherry today.” Nyx isn’t a fan of the flavour, personally, but he doesn't mind it as much if he’s getting it from Prompto. It adds to the sugar-sweet deceptive image that his boyfriend exudes on a daily basis; it helps bring out the sharpness that lies beneath his tongue, and covers the lethality he’s capable of dealing if needed.

Prompto shrugs, a little sheepishly, and grabs the conditioner. “I got hungry on the way over and grabbed a cake to eat.”

“Did it have icing?”

“Yes it did. Get that smug look off your face, Ulric, neither of us have the energy for it.”

Nyx snickers, eyes bright and teasing. “Tomorrow then?”

“Mmm,” Prompto responds, tone dubious and unhelpful. “Maybe if you can actually  _ sit still _ while I care for you, eh?”

He pouts in reply, muttering a Galahdian curse or two under his breath, but there’s no real heat in his eyes. He dozes off around the time that Prompto’s fingers start massaging his temples, and he when he wakes up his head is leaning against Prompto’s side, and his boyfriend’s hands are massaging his shoulders with gentle caresses. It can't be a comfortable position for him, sitting on the edge of the tub and leaning over like that, so Nyx nudges him back a bit and moves to get up, body sluggish from the water and ministrations.

Prompto slips out the bathroom to grab him some clothes, and in the meantime Nyx empties the tub and gives himself a quick rinse off with the shower. He gives Prompto a peck on the cheek when he re-enters, taking the clothes gratefully when he sees that they’re loose and warm. 

They walk back into the kitchen together and Nyx’s mouth waters when he catches sight of the skewers on the table. He drags Prompto into his lap as he sits down, and hooks his chin over Prompto’s shoulder, smiling as his boyfriend giggles and squirms a little to get comfortable.

“I’m not feeding you!” Prompto’s grin is wide on his face and Nyx’s pout is almost adorable.

“Mmm, not even if I ask nicely?” Nyx’s voice drops to a husk and he nips at the sensitive part of Prompto’s neck just to hear him gasp. 

“I thought you didn't have the energy for this.”

Nyx bites his shoulder in reply, soothing it over with his tongue while his hands hold Prompto just a little bit tighter. He’s more than familiar with the fact that Nyx  _ can _ manhandle him with ease if he wants to; their first night together had been a desperate and frustrated affair that was only meant to be a simple one-time thing to avoid any complications later on, yet here they are, five years later living in a domestic bliss that so many wish to have for themselves one day. 

Nyx  _ can  _ manhandle him - and he can also be more than just a  _ little _ convincing if he want to be - but Prompto knows that he won't, because for all his teasing, the tone of his voice is soft instead of sensual. A sure sign that he doesn't actually plan on his going anywhere tonight, but he won't say no if Prompto is up for it.

It seems he really won't ever stop falling in love with Nyx, no matter how many times they go through this same silent process. No wonder Noctis calls them disgusting when he sees them together.

Reaching over to grab a skewer, he cheekily waves it in front of Nyx’s face, jerking it away to take a bite when Nyx reaches out to take it with his teeth, and laughs at the betrayed look he gets in return. Nyx huff's, puffing out his cheeks to look annoyed, yet the love in his gaze burns brighter than the flames in his hands. Prompto does, eventually, start feeding him the skewers, because it’s too much effort to get up when he’s content to simply stay in Nyx’s lap and soak up the warmth his position provides, so hey finish their food in a languid silence only broken by the odd kiss or noise (the only real indicator that they’re conversation is still ongoing, though it needs no real words to be understood between them).

Bathed and sated, Nyx reluctantly lets Prompto go so he can slip into their bedroom and lay down on the quilts, eyes closed as he listens to Prompto washing up the dishes and putting them away. 

When Prompto slips onto the bed beside him, he wastes no time in braiding Nyx’s hair. It’s an intimate gesture in Galahd that’s normally reserved for bonded pairs, and although they have huge celebrations for such occasions, they don't commit to any kind of marriage like the Lucian’s do. The Nifflesian equivalent is much more subtle; body modifications like tattoos, piercings or, sometimes, on rare occasions, full prosthetics, and the piercing in Prompto’s tongue is proof enough of his own devotion to Nyx. 

“C’mere,” Nyx murmurs, leaning up against the pillows as he guides Prompto into straddling his lap, hands resting on Prompto’s thighs as he breathes in the other’s scent. 

Prompto raises a brow at him but makes no move to get off his lap, and holds Nyx’s face so his fingers can slip past his braids. “If you add any more pillows,” he whispers, teasing, “this bed will be a nest and last I checked neither of us were into the whole ‘parent’ thing.”

“Isn’t nest-building  _ your _ thing?” Nyx teases right back.

“Perpetuating stereotypes now are we? For shame, Nyx.”

He shrugs in reply, hands slipping further up Prompto’s thighs to slip under his jumper and trace the freckles he knows are there. “Romance novels aren’t the most accurate portrayals of real life situations.”

Their lips are mere inches apart, now, and the last thing Prompto says before he closes the gap is a quiet, “just one more kiss and no more.”

One kiss turns into two, then three, four, seven, and each one is slow - languid, almost - with little rush to the movement, simply an expression of affection as their tongues press together and their lips part with gentle gasps and muffled laughter. They really don't have the energy to do much more than that, but maybe tomorrow they’ll get out of bed and do something more. For now, however, they’re content to enjoy the quiet moments, and drift off into sleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs, after sharing an inordinate amount of kisses and, just for the sake of it, one more nip to the neck for good measure.


End file.
